


Cosplaying

by remanth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, cosplaying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 05:02:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7744348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remanth/pseuds/remanth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean drags Cas to a Supernatural convention for a bit of fun and convinces him to dress up for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cosplaying

“I still don’t understand why we’re doing this, Dean,” Cas complained again as he followed Dean into the hotel convention center. “What’s the point?”

Dean sighed as he looked back at Castiel. He was dressed in a gray suit and black tie and carried his angel blade. It had taken all of Dean’s abilities to convince Cas it would be okay to carry it where they were going. All in all, Cas looked a lot like Zachariah. It gave Dean a few chills but that was the point of the costume after all. They were _cosplaying_. And getting away with it in one of the few places nobody would recognize them: a Supernatural convention.

“Fun is the point, Cas,” Dean replied, turning around and grabbing Cas’s arm. He hooked Cas’s arm through his own and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “To get out of our heads for a while. It might feel silly but it’s fun. Charlie dragged me to one of these conventions when she heard they were still being held.”

“And it’s been two years since her death,” Cas finished nodding. “I understand. But why am I dressed like Zachariah?”

“Because who would expect the actual angel Castiel to dress like him?” Dean shrugged, lowering his voice as a pair of excited girls dressed like his brother, including hats with moose antlers, giggled their way past. “It was an easy costume to put together.”

“And I suppose your costume was easy to put together as well,” Cas said dryly, raising one eyebrow at Dean as he swept his eyes up and down his body. 

Dean laughed a little and hugged Cas’s arm. Since they’d finally gotten their heads out of their asses, it had been a good time being together. He could relax a few of the walls he’d always carried around himself, be more himself with Cas. And if that self was sometimes a dork or did something out of the ordinary for the intensely masculine hunter culture he’d been raised in, it was okay. Cas never judged him and still loved him the same.

“What can I say?” Dean said, waving a hand dramatically at himself. “I rock the shorts.”

He was wearing a white polo shirt with red piping and a red symbol over his heart. The shorts were the same red as the piping, almost obscenely bright compared to the rest of his wardrobe. A pair of white, knee-high socks and white gym shoes with more red piping completed the look. It was similar to the gym teacher’s outfit he’d worn what felt like a hundred years ago on that case with the ghosts at their old school. And, as he looked around once he and Cas got into the convention proper, he wasn’t the only one wearing the outfit.

They strolled around the convention arm in arm, stopping here and there to look at some of the booths. There was a veritable army of art and merchandise, some amateur and some professional. Cas wore a bemused expression, though he smiled several times at some of the art of Dean. The one of Cas pulling Dean from Hell, with Cas depicted as some massive, four-headed, winged _being_ that glowed with an ethereal blue light, earned the biggest smile. Cas even stopped at the booth, talking with the woman there about the piece. The woman wore a black suit with a black button-down shirt and deep red tie. Contacts made her eyes appear black and she wore a plastic gold crown on her head. They walked away with the picture rolled up neatly and tucked into a poster tube.

“Why that one?” Dean asked, curious as he nudged Cas’s shoulder. “Out of all the art and sheer amounts of _stuff_ why that one?”

“Because it’s almost true,” Cas replied easily, another smile tugging at his lips. “Though, she didn’t get each head correct on my true form.”

“What, no lion, giraffe, hawk, and bear?” Dean teased though a shivery liquid chill went through him. Sometimes he forgot that Cas wasn’t human, that there was a whole being crammed inside that body. “What do you look like then?”

“Instead of a bear, the fourth head is a zebra,” Cas replied seriously, turning his head as a shrill scream erupted from their right. “The wings, however, are nearly completely accurate. I am truly impressed. But that’s not the only reason I chose it.”

“Then why?” Dean asked, snorting quietly as a parade, that was the only word for it, marched past them. The scream had come from one of the “demons”, a girl who looked remarkably like Meg. There were “angels” surrounding her and other “demons” marched past. All of them were singing a song, something catchy about how the angels were going to play and the demons were going to hate.

“It was the moment I met you, the moment I save you,” Cas replied quietly, glancing at Dean. His eyes were full of love, something Dean had only allowed himself to see recently. “The Righteous Man and he was mine. My charge.”

“Well damn, Cas,” Dean said, blinking hard. “I can see why you wanted that piece now. I’m glad it was you who made it to me first.”

“Me too,” Cas replied then chuckled. “Can you imagine if it was Zachariah? How different things might have been?”

“I’m still glad I stabbed that asshole in the face,” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. “Sorry, he was your brother and all, but he was a manipulative bastard.”

“Zachariah always was one for... unconventional methods,” Cas said thoughtfully. “I have no regrets over his death other than the loss of too many angels.”

Silence reigned between them for a while then, comfortable even after the conversation. Dean felt like his head had been mounted on a swivel, he was turning it so often to see the people and booths as they passed. There were enough people cosplaying as monsters to have his fingers itch every once in a while. There were also several dressed as him and Sam, a few engaged in replaying parts of the books while others watched or participated. There were a lot of people dressed as Castiel as well.

“They like you too, see?” Dean said, using his chin to point to a group of Castiel cosplayers posing for a photo. “I’ve seen a ton of people dressed like you.”

“It’s strange to see,” Cas said, looking at the group, nonplussed. “So many of my brethren hate me that it’s strange to see people who apparently like my character in the books enough to dress like me.”

They walked past the group and Dean waved back at one guy who pointed at his costume and gave him a thumbs up. There was an area up ahead roped off with vendors selling all kinds of food. Something hot and greasy caught his nose and Dean’s stomach grumbled. Cas shot him an amused glance and altered their path to head to the food. They settled down in plastic chairs with a plate of fries and two burgers, Dean smearing ketchup over a few fries before eating them. Then, they just listened to the conversations around them as they ate.

“Castiel’s my favorite character! He tries so hard and he’s always on the boys’ side. He’s awesome!”

“Of course Sam stood up for himself! He wanted a life too. I think he did the right thing, trying to get out of hunting and go to college.”

“Jess was an amazing character even though she was only in, like, thirty pages of the first book. I wish she hadn’t died.”

“No no no no. You can’t believe Gabriel’s really dead? Really? You read the part online that Carver Edlund wrote! Remember the eyebrow lift? He’s not dead!”

“How far have you read? Oh, the last book he posted online? Can you believe the eye-fucking between Dean and Castiel? I mean, really guys, get a room.”

“You think Sam would appreciate how much fans love him? I mean, the guy’s ready to sacrifice himself for the greater good every single time it comes up. Look at what happened in the scene when he was in the hospital. He didn’t care he was dying himself, he helped that girl with her ghost. Sam is such a brave and selfless character.”

“Can you believe Gadreel held Sam hostage in order to get Dean to kick Cas out of the bunker? I mean, I get that the guy was freaking out about being found out but still. That was such a shitty thing to do.”

“Crowley had such a rise and fall in Hell. From a crossroads demon to king of hell down to Lucifer’s pet dog. It was kinda terrifying, you know?”

“I miss Charlie. That was such a clusterfuck, it really was. Come on, she fights with Rowena and just ups and leaves rather than ignoring her? When she knew the one-armed dumbfuck was still out there? And about the one-armed dumbfuck, he manages to kill her? Really? She got the better of another dumbfuck with two arms and the one-armed one kills her? Fucking bullshit is what it was.”

“I just want them to be happy. Maybe give Sam a dog because he loves them so much. Maybe a significant other because he has so much love and tenderness to give. He needs love and hugs and to be told he’s done enough, sacrificed enough. And Dean and Cas need a happy ending. They are perfect for each other, the man afraid of flying falling in love with the angel who was afraid to fall? They’ve been through so much crap together, see the truth behind the masks they put up, and they still stand by each other. It’s an epic love story.”

Dean and Cas looked at each other as they finished their fries, a tender smile on each of their faces. They got up at the same time, linking their arms together as they threw out their trash. They headed through the convention again, moving through the crowd as one unit. Dean stopped about halfway through, picking up a little box at a booth and paying for it. Inside was a little vinyl figurine of Castiel, wearing the old trenchcoat and the backwards tie.

They left, feeling calm and happy. It had been a good trip, giving them some time to themselves where the fate of the world didn’t depend on them. And it was heartening to see the fans who loved them, who knew the sacrifices and trials they’d gone through. Even if they were only fictional. As they walked out the doors, Dean caught the last bits of a final conversation.

“Look at those two. Don’t they look a little like what you’d think Dean and Castiel would look like? They look so happy. Good for them.”

**Author's Note:**

> I will admit, a lot of the fun of writing this fic was the meta madness I could add to it all. I love that Supernatural has Supernatural conventions in the show that allow for this kind of twisty mess. And yes, yes I am still bitter about Charlie's death. I also stretched the canon about how many books were published/available. We never get an accurate answer about the books posted online.


End file.
